


Her Thicket Gaurded Heart

by GiannaQueenofBelgium



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, An Unexpected Journey, Angst, Archery, BFF Fili, BFF Kili, BFF Legolas, BFF Ori, Character Death, Daddy Issues, Desolation of Smaug, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elven Wine, F/M, Greenwood, Kili/Oc - Freeform, LOTR, Legolas/OC - Freeform, Lord of the Rings, Love Interest Kili, Love Interest Legolas, Middle Earth, Mirkwood, Oc fluff, Protective Legolas, Spintrest, Tauriel is aggrivating, Tauriel/Kili - Freeform, Tauriel/Legolas - Freeform, The Hobbit - Freeform, There and Back Again, Thorin Is an Idiot, Travel, Unrequited Love, Very long, Violence, Young Legolas, spinning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiannaQueenofBelgium/pseuds/GiannaQueenofBelgium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odette Mightythorn had lived in servitude in Greenwood since she was born. Now seven hundred years later she finally gets the nerve to leave everything, including her unrequited love towards the Prince Legolas, behind and start anew. On her journey towards a better life she encounters a band of dwarves set on reclaiming their homeland. One, Kili, stands out to her as different and her thorny heart begins to open up to the heir of Erebor.<br/>She may just find home with the most unlikely of companions. But what will Legolas think if their paths ever happen to converge on the way to slaying a dragon and taking back a birthright?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I really like writing Hobbit and LOTR fanfics that are super long so please be patient with the speed at which love interests are formed/when the action comes in :) But don't worry- this doesn't mean there will not be plenty of angsty-fluffy love! Thank you for reading and I appreciate feedback tons!

Legolas gave me a light smile as I wrapped his rations. He and Tauriel were leading a venture deep into the dark corners of Greenwood, or as the neighboring men had come to call it- Mirkwood. Between the two they had a flask of rich strawberry wine made by my own Father, Lembas bread bound in mallorn leaves, and two handfuls of plump blackberries. They would not be gone for very long, only four to five days, and then return to rest and plan another attack enriched with their combined guile. Though the two spent much time clearing the forest of vermin and devilish spiders their efforts seemed to make no great impact. Droves of arachnids fled into the towering trees and spun their webs high in the branches, ever weaving and ever laying waste to the once beautiful Greenwood.

“Odette,” Legolas said and lightly touched his fingertips to my hand binding the Lembas bread, “I’m sorry.”

“You have no need to be, Prince,” I replied with all true honesty. Though he himself had befriended me Legolas’s father, King Thranduil, despised my existence. My secret companion was well aware of my longing to be a warrior and to travel the world around but, alas, I had been born into servitude and my dreams would stay only as dreams.

“May I not grieve for my friend?” He kept his voice low.

“You may,” I looked past him at Tauriel who watched us with prying eyes; she quickly looked away and continued to polishing her bow. “But do so discreetly.” I moved my hand away from his touch and finished with the food.

“He may change his mind; eventually.”

“My Lord has kept his resentment for seven hundred years, I have no doubt he can easily keep it until my family entirely expires. Then maybe that wishful forgiveness will be born into existence.” With a look that signaled that will be the end of the conversation I extended  the lambskin sack and Legolas took it with a noticeable amount of aggravation. It is easy to become annoyed with him when he reminds me of my servitude and I must then remind myself that it is no fault of his own that I never leave the cold corridors. He already has enough sorrow for my ability to enter into the west being revoked and although it has never been verbalized he is well aware that the fact of my position within Mirkwood makes sure that I will never marry. It is not a lovely life for the offspring of a man who betrayed the King.

“Do not cause too much havoc while we are gone.”

“Far too busy to stir up trouble, Prince, but you- do not return a corpse, alright?” He shook his head with soft chuckle.

“Alright,” He promised and nodded a farewell. Tauriel only gave me a light smile before taking her leave. The storeroom was deafly quite when I was left alone. Though the fire periodically cracked and hissed as its heat comminuted the wood its flanges licked, and the river below my very feet rushed with a dull roar- I was drowning in a lonely silence.

There was little time to bathe in the waters of self-pity for my duties called at all hours. I had to press grapes that day and begin preparation for the season’s many flavorful wines and strong ales. My Father, Egon Mightythorn, work was to toil in the vineyards while I stayed indoors and worked with the collected fruit. As I turned grapes to pulp he lay near the fire, his head rested on a pillow of hay, and slept. He was no lazy man, a drunk yes, but not one to loaf on his share of the work. But as I stomped grapes and dyed my legs up to mid-thigh deep purple I grew resentful and then ashamed.

The resentment had always been in my heart towards him, a dark seed planted by the words of others and my own selfishness. My being ashamed however was of my own accord for after all who wishes to be the the daughter of a man hated by the most prestigious ruler in the land?

You see my Father had once been the right hand of the King, a man of power and glory, who had the whole kingdom- the whole world, in his hands. Then he threw it all away for a half breed woman he met at an incursion near Dwarven Lonely Mountain. In the city of Dale he met the woman, partly human and part dwarf, and fell in love with her. In less than a fortnight they were wed and afterwards he attempted to return to Greenwood and his lofty position. King Thranduil had always planned to marry Father of to a noble woman of his bloodlines and take him in as family, but now he had gone off and ruined everything. Betrayed and heartbroken Thranduil cast my father from his noble position and into the cellars where he would work as a vintner.

The woman was allowed to stay, as a servant to the Elven Lord, and worked side by side with my Father. In time she became heavy with a child and as the infant’s life developed within her the woman’s own life slowly seeped out. When the child was born she was unable to continue her course in life and left my Father, and I, alone in the darkness of servitude. Drinking was there for Father when she left, to numb her absence and his ruined life. But I do not doubt he never once regretted his decision to take her as his own. I however have very different feelings towards my mother. She took everything from him; his standing with the king, his wealth, his fame, his health, and his chance at ever leading a happy life.

Not only did she leave him in ruin but me as well. If my Father had married into the house of Thranduil his offspring would have been chosen for marriage to any princes or princesses born to the king. Instead of straining my back and staining my legs I would be wed to Legolas Greenleaf, traversing the forest and tracking down gigantic spiders to slay.

The shame and resentment grew darker.

 

***

 

I was lightheaded with the scent of alcohol when I finally turned to rest for the night. My legs felt sticky to the touch no matter how much I scrubbed them with fatty soaps and brushed them with fibrous brushes. Unlike many other elves who felt little physical pain my whole body ached from the strain of my work for my human and dwarven bloodlines lead to many ailments mostly unheard of to the purebloods. My straw tick bed was stationed near the fire, across from my Father’s, and I stared at the hearth when sleep evaded me. That eve was one of my restless nights. Most days I could shake the inadequacy, the longing for a better life, the pangs of impossible love but that evening all I could do was wallow. Legolas’s words burned in my mind. What if one day the king did forgive my father? He after all was a bachelor once again; maybe he could marry into the household of Thranduil.

No, that was childish dreaming even if it was grown from the lips of the prince. I was stuck here in the cellars for eternity. I took my eyes from the fire and looked at my Father, the image of the flames left an imprint upon my vision and he looked as if he glowed in the darkness. As a child he called me his sunshine, the warmth and light within his life, he had not called me that in a very, very long time. As a youngling I had looked much like him, light blue eyes the hue of the sky and gossamer thin, blonde hair soft as silk. But as I aged my eyes grew dark green and my hair turned towards a mousy brown.

“You look exactly like your Mother.” He had uttered only once. I hated that woman, she had ruined any chance of happiness I could ever hold in my hands and wrecked the life my Father had built. I wanted nothing more than to never be compared to her again. It was not long after I began to look like her that he stopped calling me pet names.

“He would not miss me if I were to die, or to leave,” I thought to myself and continued to watch his sleeping face. He looked older in the flickering light that made the creases in his face appear deeper and more severe. It was not uncommon to day dream of running away from the Helheim I lived within, but it was but a day dream. And anyways, I had to tend to Legolas, after all someone had to look out for him when his spirits ran away from him and he became reckless. Tauriel was just as mad at times and would be of no use to helping him keep his head. I had to stay put and be sensible for the both of them.

“But what if?” Soon followed up my mental reasoning.

What if I fled from Mirkwood and found a new place to reside somewhere else in the world? It was not as if Thranduil would send an army over one useless maid he already hated. There would be no returning, no coming back and pleading for my position within Father’s chambers. Then again there was Father- could I truly leave him to do all the work on his own? Well, yes, I could. Another maid would be assigned my job and he would not be alone. He would have company in the fields, as he always did, and there would be another to tend the making of wine. I was an unnecessary burden, a reminder to him of all that he lost. The Greenwood would be a brighter place if I left, uplifted with the loss of negative energy.

I could leave and none would grieve.

“No,” I thought and turned from his face, “I will leave and none will grieve.” The day dream would be no longer, I would force it into reality.


	2. The Leaving of Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is much to be done before Odette can leave Mirkwood- the real question is, will she be caught?

Chapter One: The Leaving of Mirkwood

My plan, though I wished to set about it immediately, would need careful planning. There were guards positioned at every entrance and exit out of the castle and even more patrolled the woods nearest to the outer walls. I would need provisions to make it out of Mirkwood alive and then some to keep me alive until I could hunt and harvest. A destination would be a necessity as well for leaving without direction could prove deadly. The morning after my midnight planning I took a couple minutes to search the storerooms for a map of any sort. Most of the scrolls were instructions on different sorts of wines and ales I’d mastered hundreds of years prior but thankfully there was one, coated in heavy dust, that proved useful. It was obvious the tattered map was wanted by no one, so I hid it beneath my hay mattress for when the time came to make my escape.

Some items I would have to steal such as drink, food, and weaponry of some sort. I felt no grief concerning stealing from my Lord; he after all had taken much more from my family than he had ever given. Within three days I had collected all that I needed, but acquiring the items had almost starved me. 

The map I hid soon after finding it in the cellars and I stored it safely beneath my mattress and it was the easiest item to come across. Wine and water to tote along was also fairly easy, I would take flaks intended for the warriors who went on missions to slay the spiders that were filled and hung in my own kitchen the day of my departure. The food given to Father and I was just enough to sustain us day to day, taking any of it would mean my own flesh and blood would go hungry, food would be harder to obtain. Usually I would fetch my food three floors above my own from the cheese makers and eat it as soon as I returned to the winery. Instead of eating the small tumbler of milk, chunk of cheese, portion of Lambas bread and handful of vegetables given to me I hid it within an empty barrel I used to support my cutting table. The cool,dry atmosphere of the cellar kept the food from rotting until it was time for my departure. For three days I ate nothing but the fruit picked from the fields intended for wine. I kept my portions as small as possible without going hungry and the loss was unnoticed. By the fourth day I had enough food to last most of the journey out of Mirkwood but one more item was needed.

That morning Father left for the fields and I went around to my secret stashes and collected my items together inside of a deerskin purse that I slung around both shoulders and let rest against my back. I took three flasks of wine, one of grape and two of strawberry, and one flask of water that was placed within the purse. These I hid from sight in a billowing hooded cape I wore at times when I was needed in the fields on cold days when the frost was enclosing on the delicate fruits.

I went upstairs, three levels, to the creamery so as to collect my last meal. The Cheesemaker was a lovely male who I had known since I was but a babe, he had fair hair and wore a pleasant smile when he greeted me.

“‘Quel re, Egondaughter,” He greeted and I smiled shakily. Usually we conversed lightly as he put together my rations and poured my milk. Some days I would trade some excess wine for cheese curds or talk of the goings in the winery. Such days were not to be repeated. [Good Day, daughter of Egon]

“Nae saian luume' Mellon,” I replied as handed him my empty plate. He carefully filled it, almost painfully slow, before returning it. A true smile lifted my face, my true food had been long missed and it was good to drink the sweet milk. [It has been too long friend]

“Odette, you work too hard. Please sit a moment and tell me of you and your Father,” Though all I truly wished to do was gobble down my food and work my way towards the armory something made me accept his offer. Maybe it was the knowledge that I would never see him again, maybe it was simply the warmth he emanated was comforting to my distressed soul. So I came into the creamery and sat down with the cheese maker by the name of Medlinor.

“How is the harvest?”

“Rich, plentiful, there are no complaints this year. It is still unknown how the spiders made it past the guards last autumn but the damage they caused to the fields has been undone. I do swear by my Father’s head that this is one of the best seasons we’ve seen in many years.”

“A! What pleasant tidings!” Medlinor beamed and refilled my glass with more milk. I glanced at him and then to the glass, it was rare to receive more than dictated for servants, I said nothing and drank heartily. When I had finished the small bit of cheese Medlinor offered me bread with  butter,  I treat I rarely enjoyed. The Gods must have looked down at my plans with acceptance for the cheesemaker to fill my belly so. 

“Medlinor! Medlinor!” A voice cried and I nearly fell from my chair from the fright. An elf, one of the goat herders, flew through the corridor and into the room we rested within. He did not huff or puff from the long run from the outdoors stables- only looked distressed. “It is the ram, he climbed into a toppled tree and fell! His leg, his leg Medlinor- I fear it needs to be mended.” My friends stood with a sigh and picked up his hooded jacket from the back of his chair.

“Tenna' tul're Egondaughter, I must attend to my flock.” He said and bid me adue. [Until tomorrow daughter of egon]

“Diola lle Medlinor, I hope your ram heals well,” I stood and bowed deeply before he left. Medlinor said nothing about my leaving, nor escorted me to the door. I stood just in the entrance of the creamier and watched him sprint down the corridor before turning quickly  back to the walls lined with cheeses and other goodies. [Thank you]

When I left the third level my bag was heavy with all that I had taken. I had scrawled out on a piece of parchment an apology to my dear friend but offered no hint to where I had lef to.

My last stop was the armory where I hoped to find a weapon of some sort to aid in my protection and in hunting. As always the armory and surrounding rooms of sparring were riddled with warriors of all sorts. Some were scarred from battle, some young and lithe with energy, but all could kill me with a single blow if they found I was stealing from their Lord.

I crept inside as discreetly as I could, my face concealed behind my murky brown hood and my body staying hidden in the shadows. But the items I needed, a bow or at very least a dagger, were all the way across the shadowy hall and there were many guards between me and the weapons. Even though I kept shyly to the corner of the room and watched keenly the men had already begun to notice me. Once, as a young lass, Legolas had given me sparring lessons and taught me a thing or two about the attitude one must have to succeed.

“Now, listen here little one,” He always called me that as children though we were nearer to one another’s age than he and Tauriel. “Always keep your head high, back straight, and none will question if you belong. Pretend wherever you enter is your own home and others will assume it without a single word from your lips. Now, follow me!” He stood up from the tree stump he sat upon in the edges of the Greenwood. I stayed seated upon the grass and watched with attentive eyes. With a tall back and high chin he swaggered past me and I must admit he truly knew of what he spoke. This I called to mind as I took my first steps towards the wall of weapons.

“You, what do you think you’re doing here maid?” A voice called out when I came near to the weapons. No one had previous intervened until I attempted to reach out for a whetstone.

“Excuse me?” Without much thought I turned on him with steely eyes. The guard, a young man not much older than I with long blonde hair reaching almost to his hips, looked startled.

“I say, what are you doing here?”

“Fetching items requested by my Lord Prince Legolas. Continue to interfere and I’ll not think twice of reporting you, guard.” I snapped and jutted my chin upwards. He took but a moment to think my comment through before standing taller and attempting to look more intimidating. I took another step towards him and raised myself up onto my toes.

“What will it be, Guard? Bother me further or go back to your very important work?” His eyes narrowed and he ducked his head down in a begrudging bow. I turned from him and reached with a not at all steady hand toward the first dagger I laid eyes upon. If he so chose to report me to the king for rude behavior I wanted to be long gone before they came to find the loud mouth maiden.

“Wait-” I stopped with my finger just curling around the sheath. Though i thought it impossible my heart began to pound even harder against my ribs. I prayed to everything holy and just that he wouldn’t make a fuss. “don’t take that one, the Prince hates curved daggers. As his maidservant I would have expected you to know that. I guess not everyone can be as intelligent as others.” The guard lifted his hand lower and took out a dagger from its spot hung on the wall and handed it to me. Condescending comments aside I could have kissed him for the dagger he handed me was made with the most precious care, carved with the most intricate designs and far better than the one I chose out of pure fear. I nodded curtly and took it from him without a word. Without asking for further assistance he picked out other items the Prince liked best.

“This is a good whetstone for the blade, won’t cause any wear- only sharpen. Now, we have many fine bows, is Prince Legolas in need of a bow?”

“I don’t believe he would object using one of lesser value while his own has regular maintenance.” He said nothing and began to rove through the bows hanging on small hooks, touching this one and that with light fingers before stopping at one dyed a crimson red.

“I know the Prince is known for his green garb, but I doubt using a scarlet bow would prove to be too harrowing.” I raised an eyebrow and turned my eyes to the side in a half roll. I would have made no objections if it not were for the fact the bow was far too large for my own use. If I had already deceived this young, haughty guard already to give me finer tools I would not back down for an  inadequate bow.

“Well, if he finds the color unpleasing I promise to make mention of your name.” His hand left the red bow and he continued the search. In the end I armed with the straight blade dagger, a bow of deep green and engraved with gold runes, and a quiver absolutely overflowing with arrows. There were so many instances though within the armory that I thought Thranduil, or even Medlinor, would come flying in through the entrance screaming of my absence and trickery. But they were both busy and thankfully my heart did not give out during the ordeal. 

There was a lightly guarded exit to the south of the armory near the sparring flats and I decided that would be the best way to leave. Many elves had already seen my conversation and dealing with the idiotic guard and were happily ignoring my presence. It would be easy to escape without much notice. After the flats the trees grew thick and dense, in my scenery colored hood and cape I could hide with little effort.

I threw the quiver over my back, tied the sheathed dagger to my thigh overtop of my brown trousers, and then held the bow in my hand.

“Wait, isn’t the Prince out in the forest? I was unaware he had returned.”

“He has not yet come back to Greenwood, Guard, but he asked me to wait on the forest edge for his arrival to bestow clean, useful weapons immediately. Do you have the right to question the authority of the son of King Thranduil?”

“I was not questioning his authority maiden but your own. Now leave my sight or I’ll take offence and bring you in front of the King myself!” He hissed and and I narrowed my brow.

“Insolent, no good, orc louse.” I muttered as I left the room by way of the southern exit and continued onwards towards the tree line.

With every footstep I neared closer to the trees, closer to treason, closer to a better existence. Fear, joy, and exhilaration overwhelmed my excited mind as I walked past the first tree. Then another, and another passed quickly past me; their branches just barely brushing against my head. Before I knew it the forest had closed in around me. 

I thought the most difficult part of leaving would be escaping, how mistaken I was. The thickets, brambles, fallen trees, and other fauna in my path made it horrible to traverse the forest. I did not take the main path out of Mirkwood for fear of being caught and the lesser used trails were in great need of maintenance. It was dark under the heavy cover of the canopy and what little light filtered down was tinged dark green, making it harder to distinguish a proper foothold and a shadowy hole. I’m unsure how I managed not to twist my ankle in the first half hour.

Not only was it a challenge to make my way forward, to see properly, but the sounds of the forest were disconcerting at best. The creak of limbs echoed in my ears and the groanings of monstrosities never seemed far off. I kept on hand held out to the side in case I tripped and the other held the dazzling dagger. I had to move the bow from out of my hand and onto my back and kept it in place with the special notch carved into the quiver. 

There were no clearings, no stop in the ever assaulting onslaught of foiledge. The trees grew so densely together could not fathom how anyone could manage to find their direction in the awful place. 

I looked heavenwards at the high tops of the trees where I could catch glimpses of the sun. Less than an hour in the forest and I was beyond lost. Filled with aggravation I removed my cape and folded it gently before placing it at the base of a massive treetrunk, then I took off my quiver and bow, satchel and re-tied my knife to my thigh. The only way to find my bearings again was to get a high vantage point, the only place of visibility was the trees, I would have to climb. After a few moments of contemplating footholds and the slippery bits of moss crowding the lowest branches I took three paces back and made a running start toward the trunk.

My left foot hit the top of a knot first and I used my momentum to kick myself upwards in the direction of the lowest branch that would have normally been out of my reach. My fingers just barely brushed the bark but it was enough to get a fairly decent grip. Soon both hands were tight around the branch and I was pulling myself up in no time. Thankfully the boughs were close together and I ascended the tree much like one would a ladder.

The sun felt marvelous on my face as I left the world below and neared the canopy top. My palms and fingers burnt from scraping them against the rough wood and my shoulder sockets burned from holding my full weight. It was worth it in the end to receive the prize of such a marvelous view. To the north were the King Thranduil’s many halls, they happened to be far closer than I would have assumed for it was hard to traverse the woods and took longer than I hoped, to the east was the old Dwarven home of which the elves ignored, and in the west was my destination: The Shire.

I’d heard stories of the Shire, a bucolic little place filled with whimsical, happy people who kept to themselves and had a love for good food. They were known by the name of Hobbits. In my seven centuries I’d never once met a Hobbit but I decided that I would, eventually that is if i ever escaped this awful forest.

With a sigh and a good bearing on my general direction I descended the tree, loaded up my supplies and set off towards the east. Though fear lingered with me at all times my spirit had a softer, happier glow to it as I trudged along.

No more cold nights in the cellars. No more slaving away for a master. No more being surrounded by those who regretted and despised my very being alive. No more Legolas-

“Wait,” I thought to myself and began to move at an even slower pace. No more Legolas. I didn’t like that reality, not one ounce of it. Though there would be open fields and clear blue skies, not to mention all the food I could want for and if all went well I’d never have to work for another again, there would be no Legolas. There would be no secret outings during the feast of starlight, one of the rare occasions when I got time off from work, when Legolas would come and fetch me from the cellars and take me outside to dance under the stunning luminaries. 

I came to a full stop. No more little notes of glad tidings hidden in his bag when I was assigned to make preparations for his raids on the spiders. No more little smiles and winks across the room. No more Legolas. I looked back towards the scuffy path from which I came. I wished so much in that moment to turn around and run home, put the cheeses back where I found them along with the weapons and go back to my dingy wines.

But there was no turning back, there was only moving forward. I had betrayed the king and I well knew the consequences of crossing Thranduil. I shakily sighed and continued walking towards the west. ****

Though I was sure he would not miss me, my heart was breaking at the thought I’d never see my Prince again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter! If you have any comments or advice please leave them. Also, do you ship Legolas/Odette? I'd love to know! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the introduction! Are you ready to set out on the journey of a life time with Odette?! Also by the way I wrote another hobbit fic on another blog that I deleted a while ago so if anything in here reminds you of that- well its because this is sort of a rewriting of it :) So don't worry, I didn't steal this :3 Thanks!


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